


i'm a present and you know it (here i am boy)

by uneventfulhouses



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Christmas, Cunnilingus, F/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21888475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uneventfulhouses/pseuds/uneventfulhouses
Summary: It’s a little after six, and he’s just gotten himself up off the couch for another beer when there’s a knock at his door; it surprises Shane entirely since it’s Christmas Eve and he isn’t expecting any visitors.When he opens the door, he’s taken aback; it’s his neighbor, Kelsey, and she’s holding up two bottles of wine.“Shove over, I need someone to drink with,” she says, and he doesn’t know what else to do but step aside and let her come waltzing in.or; shane and kelsey spend christmas eve together.
Relationships: Kelsey Darragh/Shane Madej
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: RareBuzzShips Holiday Event





	i'm a present and you know it (here i am boy)

**Author's Note:**

> wowza. here's another rarepair! i enjoyed writing this so much. thanks to [jenn](https://hallowwen.tumblr.com/) for the beta work!
> 
> as always, this is a work of fiction, all mistakes are my own, please enjoy!

It’s a little after six, and he’s just gotten himself up off the couch for another beer when there’s a knock at his door; it surprises Shane entirely since it’s Christmas Eve and he isn’t expecting any visitors.

When he opens the door, he’s taken aback; it’s his neighbor, Kelsey, and she’s holding up two bottles of wine.

“Shove over, I need someone to drink with,” she says, and he doesn’t know what else to do but step aside and let her come waltzing in. And because he assumes her apartment across the hall is an exact replica of his own, she just beelines for his kitchen. “I like your shirt—fucking festive,” she calls.

And Shane, well, he’s still standing by the door, hand on the doorknob, looking down, dumbly, at the shirt he decided to put on this morning.

It’s just a graphic tee of Santa’s coat. He’s left wishing he’d worn something different.

Closing the door, he shifts the lock back in place and makes his way to the kitchen. There are two wine glasses on the counter, both filled halfway with the red wine she’s brought. Leaning against the entryway, he watches her. She stands on the very tips of her toes, rifling through his cabinets now, and God, he’s sort of known she’s not a shy woman, but she really has a knack for commanding situations.

“Uh, what are you looking for?” he asks.

“Noodles.”

“Noodles?”

“Yeah. I brought wine, so you gotta make spaghetti,” Kelsey says, looking over at him, brown eyes framed by dark, long lashes, short blonde hair brushing her shoulders. She turns back to the cabinet. He notes she’s wearing yellow sweatpants and a tiny black t-shirt that boasts the Batman logo. He’s pretty sure she isn’t wearing a bra, and that thought ignites a curl of arousal low in his stomach.

All in all, his day was faring well. He’d been expecting to spend Christmas alone, so he queued up some of his favorite movies, had stocked on popcorn and beer, and figured he’d call it an early night, ring in Christmas Day with the same rigamarole. And while he knew Kelsey was also spending Christmas alone, he never expected this hurricane of a woman to show up.

Shane remembers the first time he’d met her. He’d been down by the mailboxes, pulling out his stack of envelopes; she’d walked right up to him, sized him up and said, “ _Fuck_ , you’re tall.”

And he, of course, is incredibly aware, but he didn’t expect her to just say to him so _accusingly_. And then she’d reached up, touched the rim of his glasses, slid her fingertip over his jawline and rescinded her attention, busying herself with her own mailbox. She didn’t say anything else to him, didn’t even look at him, and then she was gone. And Shane was sort of stuck, because? Because she was gorgeous and women like her don’t typically pay him much attention, but she’d looked up at him, mischief in her eyes and—well, he hadn’t really gotten over it.

Since then, they had talked, and she always had something forward to say—in today’s climate, he’d attribute her behavior to _cat calling_ , whistling at him when he walks by her, and instead of being cool like he usually was with women he was attracted to, he always fell into some awkward stumbling. She caught him off guard each and every time.

“I have to make spaghetti?” Shane says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kelsey grins at him, dropping a bag of noodles on the counter along with a tucked away jar of marinara sauce. “Duh. I’m your guest. Also, I’ll probably burn your place down trying to make it myself, so I’m just gonna sit here and look pretty and keep you company.” She propels herself up on the counter and he watches the way she does, how her tiny t-shirt rises so he can see the pale skin of her belly. And then he averts his eyes cause—

“You can look if you want to, hon,” she says, grabbing a glass of wine from the counter. He can feel her eyes on him as he unsticks himself from where he’s standing and moves to find a pot for the noodles. He doesn’t answer her.

“Am I killing your vibe here?” she asks, and he looks up, finds her leaning forward to look down at him where he’s kneeling, rifling through one of the lower cabinets next to the stove. She crosses her legs at the knee.

“No, you’re fine. I—it’s fine,” he says, glancing up at her and catching the heat of her eyes. He doesn’t know exactly what her intentions are, but the way her eyes are lit so bright, and the way she grins behind her glass, he doesn’t think he’ll survive whatever it is she’s got planned.

“Good. I thought you could use some company. I figured two lonely hearts was better than one. You know what they say, misery loves company.” She downs her glass, moving onto the second one, which he’d assumed was for himself, but he quickly realizes assuming anything with her would probably get him into trouble.

“I’m not miserable,” he mumbles.

“See! I’m already changing your life.” She knocks her toes against his shoulder; her toenails are painted a wild, dizzyingly bright blue. He can’t help but smile up at her.

Shane does, in fact, make spaghetti. And she talks to him all the while, sharing her wine with him, tugging at his shirt every so often to shove her glass at his chest, making him drink. He finds she likes to fill the space with conversation. And she’s quite crass in the way she speaks, like she’s unfiltered at all times. He likes it, is the thing. She laughs loudly, unabashedly, doesn’t hesitate to touch him when she wants to; his arm, his chest, his _face_. He learns things about her—probably things someone doesn’t necessarily need to know about someone, but she’s _honest._

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for single,” she says. “Me? I’m a disaster. You? You, like, have your shit together,” she says as he serves them pasta. “And you’re, like, hot.”

Shane’s willing to chalk that up to the wine. “I’m just in between people right now, I guess,” he says, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. He hands her a plate. 

“There was that girl—”

“Kelsey—”

“What? I’m just trying to figure you out,” she says. Kelsey doesn’t make a move to hop off the counter, so he sits across from her on the opposite counter, his own plate in hand, right next to the sink. He grabs two forks from the drying rack and hands her one. “And sort of make sure that you’re not seeing anyone.” She pauses. “Cause if this pasta’s good, I might wanna fuck you.”

Shane’s jaw drops and she cackles, drinking the last of her glass. She’s somewhere between her third or fourth, but even as she looks at him, he can see that she's very aware of what she’s doing.

“Jesus, Kelsey,” he breathes.

“What? You made a girl dinner,” she reasons, shrugging her shoulders. “Also, I’ve kinda been wondering about you. You have a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, _Shane_. Like—a _thing_.”

He has no idea what she’s talking about, so he looks down at his plate, twirling noodles onto his fork.

“You get so shy, you know,” she murmurs, but her voice is light, teasing. “I like that.”

“You’re just—a lot,” he confesses.

“I’m aware. I just know what I want.”

When he looks up at her, she’s looking at him, biting down on her lip. And rather than entertain her comment, he eats his food, but he has a feeling that’s she’s not going to let him live the rest of the night peacefully like he’d intended.

It’s quiet then; she eats from her plate and there’s a simple silence between the two of them, but the air is hot. And maybe it’s just him, because he can feel her eyes, can feel the wine, and didn’t expect for his next-door neighbor to just burst in and come onto him.

With a big sigh, Kelsey drops from the counter to the floor and shuffling close to him to deposit her plate into the sink.

“That was really good,” she says, twinkling brown eyes. “Finish up, I want to watch a movie.” She sets her hand on his thigh, high up so her hand is basically brushing against his dick. And he shudders, his breath stuck in his throat as she leaves the kitchen, wine glass in her hand.

On the couch, she’s practically sitting on top of him; their thighs touch and she’s been running her fingers through his hair and he can’t deny the fact that he’s half hard in his pants from the way her fingers traipse lazy over his shoulders. He’d accuse her of not paying attention to the movie, but he’s most certainly hyperaware of each of her movements.

It’s a stand-up comedy special they’re watching, and Kelsey’s laughing boisterously next to him. Naturally, because most comics do, the routine veers towards sex. And Shane’s just not this awkward. He’s not this boyish, or skittish, and he’s definitely not shy about _sex_. But there’s something about Kelsey, about her that just makes him feel like he just—

He’s in his thirties and this wild, whirlwind of a woman makes him feel self- _conscious._

“Hey,” she whispers in his ear at some point. He turns to look at her and her face is very close. He can see every single one of her eyelashes, the bruised stain of her lips, the way her eyes flicker with light from the television in the darkness of the living room.

“Hmm?” he answers, just a little dazed by how gorgeous she is. It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed. It was pretty much her whole thing.

Carding her fingers through his hair, she settles her hand on the side of his neck, blinking her eyes at him before she smiles. “Wanna bone?”

“Oh, my God.” He can feel his face flush, as his head drops back against the couch and he stares at the ceiling. He can feel her fingers, tracing over his collar, slipping up the column of his throat. He fucking _gulps_.

“You had to know we were heading here,” she says, giggling. “Do you want to?”

“Of course, I want to,” he mutters.

“So then, what’s the deal? Lay it on me,” she murmurs.

Shane doesn’t move, not immediately, but she’s coaxing him, dragging her hand over his chest, down his stomach.

“What are you doing?” he whispers to her.

Shrugging, she shifts her body to sit astride his lap. “You, hopefully.” Kelsey leans in forward, her lips just close enough he can feel her breath. He might go cross-eyed trying to look at her, but he can’t tear his eyes away. “Come on, Shane,” she coaxes. “Touch me.”

He sets his hands on her thighs, and she sets her hands over his, drags them so they rest higher on her hips.

“I think about you sometimes,” she says, her voice soft, a whisper, but he hangs onto each word she says; his heart catapults into a reckless speed, slamming against his sternum. One of her hands settles on his shoulder, and she presses her mouth on his cheek.

“What do you think about?” he says, giving in, closing his eyes.

“About what you’d do to me if I got you like this,” she says. He’s embarrassed by the involuntary noise he makes, but it seems to fuel her. With both of her hands on his shoulders, she drags her hips against his, and his fingers tighten against hers, slipping over the soft flesh of her waist underneath her t-shirt. “How good you’d be for me. Fuckin’ touch myself thinking about you.”

He’s only human; he can’t really deny her, because he doesn’t _want_ to. So, when she pulls back to look down at him, he surges up to kiss her. Her hands settle on his face, and she moans, quickly makes the kiss dirty, slipping her tongue past his lips to lick into his mouth. Her hips don’t stop, dragging this delicious rhythm that’s just enough to tease him. She pulls away, just to breathe against his mouth. She smells like wine and pasta, and she’s too close for his eyes to focus.

“I want you to fucking blow my mind,” she says. And then she’s climbing off of him, and he watches her round the couch. He _laughs_ when she doubles back for her forgotten glass of wine.

 _Fuck_. He looks up at the ceiling, wondering why his life is the way it is, how he’d gotten here, about to sleep with his hot-as-hell neighbor on Christmas Eve. And because he’s not fucking _stupid_ , he shuts off the TV, the kitchen lights, and the hall lights on his way to his bedroom.

Kelsey is standing in front of the glass encased butterfly that hangs next to his closet.

“This is cool,” she says to him, drinking from her glass. “I feel fancy looking at it.”

She’s naked, and it takes him a moment to collect himself cause she’s sexy, gorgeous, smattered with tattoos and scars and beauty marks.

“I wanted to undress you,” he says to her, keeping his stance in the doorway.

“Oh?” She turns to him and he sees her wholly, the dusty pink of her nipples, the flare of her hips, the thickness of her thighs. He licks his lips as he looks, taking her in before meeting her eyes.

“Get on the bed,” he tells her, and her eyebrows raise, but she doesn’t talk back to him. She gulps down her wine and sets the glass on his nightstand. He watches her move; she’s no different than when she’s dressed, the sway of her hips, the bounce of her tits. She sits on the edge and watches him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she mutters. “Where the hell was this earlier?”

He shrugs, pulling off his (ridiculous) t-shirt and tossing it to the floor. He crosses the bedroom, and because it’s all he can think about, he kneels in front of her.

“Oh my God, yeah?” she says, leaning back on the palms of her hand. She looks down at him, eyes like wildfire, and it sends a thrill through him, to his cock where he’s already, so, so hard.

“You think about this?” he asks her, hands on her knees, spreading her thighs. He’s confronted with her, bare and wet for him, and she isn’t shy by any means. He kisses the inside of her thigh, and then the other, keeping his eyes on her.

“Yeah,” she whispers, reaching forward with one hand to run her fingers through his hair. Her hand settles on the back of his head, pulling him closer. He’s just at the apex of her thighs, but he takes his time, sucking marks into the supple flesh. She tugs at his hair, demanding, and he goes willingly, licking over her in a long, broad stripe; she groans, and he doesn’t stop, focusing the touch of his tongue against her clit, reveling in the way she shudders, pulling hard at his hair. He licks her out with intent, because he wants to make her come like this; for all her talk, he really does want to blow her mind, wants to make her come, again and again and again, until she can’t think, until she can’t use that smart mouth for anything but saying his name.

Kelsey throws her head back, a soft whisper of, “Oh, _fuck_ ,” renting the quiet of the air. She curls a leg over his shoulder, and her fingers pull at his hair again; he slips a finger inside of her, enjoying wholeheartedly the way her thighs clench together like she’s trying to close them. She’s so wet, she drips over his hand as he finger-fucks her. He looks at her above him; her fingers pinch her own nipples, and her face is that of pleasure, eyes shut tight.

“ _Shane_ ,” she calls, her voice raw, just this side of broken. It sends a shiver down his spine, and he can’t help but touch himself, palming his hand over his cock, eyes flickering shut for just a moment as he loses himself in her taste, flicking his tongue over the firmness of her clit. She cries out, cursing, calling his name, fingers tight in his hair. She rides his face, hips moving frantically, like she can get any closer than they are. He gives her a second finger, curling them just so—

“God, oh, God, you’re gonna make me— _uh_ —shit, _shit_ ,” she babbles nonsensically; her thighs shake, and he can’t help his self-satisfied grin, how quickly he was able to make her a mess. He likes this, he finds; he’s always liked giving head. It turns him on, satisfying his lover with the touch of his mouth, but this is different—she was cocky, arrogant, and now she’s pleading for him and he can’t help but give her what she wants, shoving his fingers deep inside of her so she groans, keep his tongue flat against her clit so she squeaks.

“Shane, I’m gonna fucking come, I’m gonna—” her strain of speech is cut off by a loud, guttural moan, one that bounces off the walls and bleeds into his skin. He licks her through it, all while she shakes and shudders, her hips rolling hard against the pressure of his mouth. He chases the taste of her sweet, tangy come until her body falls lax against his bed. “What the actual fuck.”

Shane sits back on his haunches, taking in a deep breath before he stands, looking down at her body. He finishes undressing from the pajama pants he’s been wearing. He’s hard, so fucking hard for her it aches in his belly, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath.

“Oh, my God, you’re—” she giggles, actually giggles, and it’s hard to be shy when he knows exactly what he’s working with. “Of _course,_ you’re huge,” she mutters. She sits up, looking straight at his cock, reaching out a hand to wrap around the shaft, giving it a tug. And he’s barely coherent at the simple touch, reaching out to touch her hair, her face, down lower to cup her breast, pinching a nipple.

“ _Jesus_ ,” she breathes. “Step back a bit. I’m gonna fucking suck your soul right out of your dick.”

Shane does as she asks, and she slips down to her knees and it’s a whole sight to see, the way she leans forward; she mouths at the base, licking over him as she looks up, and he doesn’t watch, not really, when his sight blurs from the way she strokes him slowly, with a grip too loose to do anything but tease. it’s the press of her tongue that really does him in, though, a long drag up the underside, right before she takes him in whole. He groans, low, like it’s ripped right out of his chest. The heat of her mouth feels too good; he sucks in a sharp inhale and—he’s not going to last very long with the pressure of her tongue, the noises she makes, the way she keeps eye contact with her dark eyes like she’s truly trying to ruin him.

He runs his fingers through her hair, keeping it back to make sure he can see the way her wine-stained lips wrap around him, the way she takes him in so deep; he doesn’t mean to, but his hips jolt forward. She’s off him all too quickly, coughing.

“Jesus fucking _Christ_ ,” she says, and her voice is raw, broken, _shredded_. “Some cocks are just meant to be sucked, man,” she muses. “But I want you inside me, like, fucking yesterday.”

“Jesus, Kelsey,” he whispers. He watches as Kelsey settles herself on the bed, legs spread open, touching herself. “Can’t wait, can you?”

Shane doesn’t realize he’s shaking until he leans over to dig through his nightstand for a condom. He tears the wrapper open, rolling the condom down the length of himself; he catches her eyes, watching her as she eyes him, slipping her fingers inside herself.

“Just hurry up.” Her voice is breathy, a little strained. He strokes himself, just to ease the pressure. He wants to be inside of her, watch her face when he fucks her.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he mutters, and despite herself, she laughs, but it’s quickly broken into a moan, so soft and sweet. God, he wants her, so badly.

“Come on, baby.” Kelsey’s voice is coaxing, sweet the way she beckons him over. He goes, climbing between her thighs, licking and kissing his way up her body. He pauses, just so he can taste the firm points of her nipples, relish the way she calls his name, impatient, greedy.

Shane kisses her; licks into her mouth, swallows back each of her moans. Her fingers dig into his flesh, reach for his ass to pull him in closer. He’s flush with her body and she’s hot underneath him, dragging her nails down his back. He cants his hips against hers, not inside her yet, just teasing his cock over her wet heat that she moans.

“Come on, come on,” she whispers against his mouth. “ _Please_.”

It’s different; with her begging like this—the arrogance is gone, replaced by sheer desperation and he can’t help but feel it, curling around his body how much he wants to be inside of her. So, he reaches between them for his cock, dragging the tip of himself against her, pressure over her clit just to hear the choked moan she gives him before he sinks inside of her, deliciously tight around him, hot, hot, _hot_.

“Oh, God,” she breathes, and when he pulls back, just slightly, they make eye contact; her eyes are dark as they watch him. He strokes back and then in, and her eyes flutter shut, throwing her head back against his pillows. “Shane, _Shane_ , fuck.” She curls an arm around his shoulders, presses a hand between his shoulder blades.

“Christ, _Kelsey,_ you feel so good,” he says and he’s surprised by the sound of his own voice, how out of it he sounds, how distant he is from himself as he loses his senses to her body, the heat of her around him, the sharp of her nails in his flesh, the way she calls his name as he fucks into her with a steady rhythm, keeping deep inside of her. And God, she takes him so well, curling her legs low around his waist, ankles hooked behind his thighs, rolling her hips up to meet him.

Looking at her, Kelsey is nothing short of beautiful like this, flushed, pliant, engaged. She talks a lot as she’s being fucked, he finds, strains of curses and sentiments between the way she chants his name. He likes it, the way her words just sink into his skin.

“Right there,” she hisses. “God, right there, _don’t_ stop.”

He doesn’t and he’s rewarded with the nip of her teeth over his lips, her arms around his shoulders, her breathtaking noises as she moans a sharp, quiet little string of _yes, yes, yes_ as he shifts his hips, stroking inside of her. He thinks he might go insane from it, from her, rubbing his knees raw on the bedsheets from the way he fucks her. He feels like he’s on fire; she runs her fingers through his hair. He dips his head to kiss her throat, her shoulder, marking a trail down her chest when he licks between her breasts, catching a nipple between his teeth. She shivers, pulling at his hair; he glances at her, takes in the wrecked red of her lips, the way she pants for her breath.

“Harder, come on,” she whispers looking up at him with her heavy-lidded gorgeous eyes, like she can see right through him. “I know you can.”

Shane leans back then, sitting back, just so he can grab her by her thighs and push her legs back against her chest so he can fuck in deep. She cries out, like she’s _surprised,_ her arms flying up above her head, pressing against the headboard as he thrusts into her, deliberately, carefully measured, _hard_. Just like she’d asked.

The bed creaks from their sex; he can’t stop watching her as his hips undulate a rhythm that makes her whimper. With one hand, she reaches between them, between her legs, touching her fingers to her clit. He can’t help but watch; it’s overstimulating, the way she looks with his cock inside of her, wet from her, her bright pink fingernails a flurry as she rubs herself furiously. He almost loses grips on her thighs, hands slipping over sweat flushed flesh, but they catch at the back of her knees. He can feel the sweat on his forehead, his chest, can see it on her flushed cheeks.

“This what you want?” he asks her, flicking his gaze back up to her face, watching the way heard head lulls back, the soft expanse of her throat bare; he wants to set his teeth over it, mark her up so he can see it when they’re done.

“Yes, Shane, God,” she says, “right _there_ , please—” Her speech dissolves into absolutely nothing but his name as she comes again, shaking, hands gripping fistfuls of bedsheets as her eyes fly open and catch his eyes. It’s a stunning display as she arches her back, biting down on her lip. With the tight heat of her around him, his hands gripping the backs of her thighs so firm, he follows her, throwing his head back as he pushes deep inside of her, convulsing, hips stuttering as he comes.

“Kelsey, Kelsey, _Kelsey_ ,” he breathes, as he falls against the palms of his hands, bracketing her underneath him. His lungs are on fire as he tries to figure out how to breathe normally.

She’s watching him, eyes alight, reaching her hand out to touch her palm to his face; her thighs press against either side of his hips. He leans in, to kiss her, to breathe her in, God, he doesn’t know but all he wants is her.

When he moves to pull out of her, she grabs his waist with her hand, fingers gripping into his flesh.

“Wait,” she whispers. “Just—just stay for a sec.” Kelsey looks everywhere else but his face when looks down at her, and rather than coerce her into looking at him, he allows her this moment of vulnerability, leaning against her body, gently laying his weight against her, still inside of her. She wraps her arms around him, kissing his cheek, his shoulder, burying her face in his throat. In a wild turn of events, he thinks she’s hiding from him.

Kelsey comes back to bed with a glass of wine. He’s starting to suspect that the wine is a part of her personality. She sets the glass down on the nightstand. He’s cleaned himself up since then, and when she gets underneath the covers, he covers her with his body, because all he wants to do is fall into her, touch her, breathe in the scent of her flesh as he finds pieces of her skin to fit his mouth. She allows him, legs tangled, fingers through his hair, breathy laughter as he noses along her throat.

“You’re quite the Christmas gift,” he says to her.

Kelsey’s giggle is sleepy, and when she looks up at him, her eyes are uncharacteristically soft. He likes it, that he wore her down to this, a laziness that their sex created. She touches his face. “You’re goddamn right I am,” she says. “Who knew you were such a good lay?”

He snickers. “You, apparently, otherwise, I get the feeling you wouldn’t have bothered.”

She concedes. “You’re right. You nerds, always good for a good time.” She sets her palm against his cheek, and he wonders if this is how she really is when she’s had her fill, when she’s spent and satisfied. With delicate fingertips, she traces the lines of his eyebrows, the slope of his nose; he kisses her fingertips when they rest gently against his lips. She smiles.

“Let me take you out,” he whispers when he finds her lips, kissing her softly, chaste, quick presses she returns.

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah.”

Kelsey seems to think about it, looking up at him curiously. “I’m going to ruin your life, Shane,” she murmurs. “You don’t take a girl like me home to mom.”

Shane doesn’t know what to say; this is explicit vulnerability and he’s not very good with feelings, with showing himself. But there’s an insecurity there, underneath all that sexual prowess and bravado, that makes his heart lurch. Sure, she’s wild and brash, and it’s very possible that this could turn sour, but that’s the chance with anything. He can experience that with anyone. But he knows he likes her, thinks she’s pretty, lovely, has a mind he wouldn’t mind sifting through if she would ever let him. He, of course, doesn’t say anything like that.

“I’m not proposing,” he teases, to which she cackles. “I’m just asking for dinner. A _real_ one.”

“This _was_ real. And that spaghetti was fucking _good_ ,” she said.

Shane laughs, burying his face in her shoulder. He kisses her collar, her throat, her jaw; he finds her lips eventually, kissing her deep, intense, stealing the breath right from her lungs.

“Fine, fine,” she says when they part. He notes she’s breathless, eyes shining, makeup smudged. “But if I break your heart, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He rolls his eyes and kisses her again, which she returns, fingers tender as they run through his sweat damp hair.

Shane wakes up with Kelsey’s hair in his mouth, which he promptly pulls away from, smoothing the tangled locks away from her sleep-warm cheek. She’s draped across his chest; he can feel her hot breath over his collar. Smiling, he kisses the top of her head, dragging his fingers down the naked length of her spine. She wakes.

“Morning,” he says. When she shifts, she groans, but she reaches up to kiss him, this lazy press of her mouth against his as she slips her body on top of him.

“My hips are killing me. My mind is blown,” she whispers.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, chuckling, which she echoes.

“Honestly,” she murmurs, sitting up to look down at him. Her hands are splayed over his chest, and her eyes are sleepy, and the sight of her like this makes his heart jump in his chest and heat pool low in his belly. “You’re a pretty neat Christmas gift, too.”

He laughs and she’s grinning down at him, falling against his chest to kiss him as he reaches under the blankets, grabbing her by the waist to pull her closer.

(They go on many dates. They spend a lot of nights together. They fight sometimes because they both have the emotional capacity of spoons. They have wild, intense sex, but sometimes he touches her with reverence, a gentleness, a tranquil calmness that makes her gasp. He tells her he loves her right before he hangs up on the phone a few months later. She calls him back and calls him a weirdo, but she tells him she loves him, too. They find a bigger place to move into when their leases are up.

Most importantly, she doesn’t break his heart, and he does, in fact, take her all the way to Chicago to meet his mother for Christmas.) 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading. come scream at me on [tumblr](https://businessbabybergara.tumblr.com/)! hearts for all.


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